Page 132 of The Otherworld

But Jack must have seen me climbing out because now he’s peering at me with suspicion. “What are you doing out here? Adam putting you to work?”

A nervous laugh tickles my throat. “No, he was just… I wanted to know how the engine worked. He was showing me.”

Jack steps closer and says, “You have a smudge on your cheek.” He reaches up to gently swipe it away with the pad of his thumb—the same spot Adam touched moments ago as he kissed me.

I look down at the floor, my cheeks flushing hot. “I… must have brushed against something.”

Jack nods slowly, glancing at his brother’s feet sticking out from under the truck. “Or something brushed against you.” It’s impossible to miss the undertone of irritation in his voice. “Anyway, I was looking for you because I want to take you to work with me today. At the marina. Sun’s out, and there’s this boat Dad needs someone to test drive… What do you say?” His hazel eyes search mine for an answer—so hopeful, so sure. As if he has a million ideas for us beyond test-driving the boat.

“Sounds wonderful,” I say, “but Adam and I were hoping to go look through the records today to find my relatives—”

“You’ll have plenty of time to do that later,” Jack cuts in. “Once Adam gets his truck fixed, he can pick you up at the marina. I have to work all afternoon, anyway. That good with you, bro?”

“Sure,” Adam replies from under the truck. “No problem.”

“Great.” Jack snatches my hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

* * *

Music plays softly on the radio as I watch sunlight flash over the windows dappled by tree shadows. We haven’t been driving for ten minutes when Jack says, “Oh, shoot—we have to go back.”

I give him a puzzled frown. “Did you forget something?”

“I forgot to tell you to bring your swimsuit. I thought we’d take the boat up to Bricker Cove. If you’re not too scared of the cold water.”

“I am not scared of cold water. But I don’t own a swimsuit.”

The car slows as Jack turns to look at me. “You’re joking.”

“No.”

“So you swim naked?”

“No!” The suggestion makes me laugh. “What an idea. I swim with my clothes on, of course.”

Jack wrinkles his nose in disdain. “That sounds uncomfortable.”

“Well, what do Otherworlders swim in?”

“Guys wear shorts—” he indicates the ones he’s wearing “—and girls wear bikinis.”

“Bik-eenees.”

Jack smirks at me. “You’d look fantastic in one.”

To prove it, he drives us into town and parks the car at a crowded intersection. Where he leads, I follow—down the sidewalk, around the corner, and through the door of a clothing shop. All around me lies a mesmerizing chaos of clothes and hats and shoes and towels and umbrellas and other things I’ve never seen in my life. For a moment, all I can do is turn in a slow circle and take it all in—which elicits an amused smirk from Jack.

I laugh and smack his suntanned arm. “Oh, stop. It’s overwhelming!”

“I know. Here, I’ll help you choose something.”

Jack leads me through the maze of clothes racks dripping with colorful fabrics. As he rifles through the clacking hangers, I finally see what a bikini looks like: underwear. Underwear you don’t wear anything over. I spot a picture on the wall of a woman wearing a teal blue one—out in public on a sunny beach, her blonde hair flowing behind her.

I’m not sure I will ever understand the strange customs of the Otherworld.

“This one,” Jack says, picking out a stringy red bikini and handing it to me. “Trust me, you’ll look so hot.”

I raise one eyebrow. “Hot?”

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